I left my house twice today, and both times it was to go to 7-11. I went around 10:30 this morning for a 64-ounce Dr. Pepper which I nursed all day, and for some reason it completely killed my appetite. I didn't eat a bite until 7:00 tonight. I also bought a USA Today which I didn't read.
Then, just now, I went to the other 7-11 (there are two in the same proximity to my house, so I went to the other one just for kicks) and purchased a 2-liter bottle of Coke and some Rollitos.
I have no idea. I just felt like I should go out.
It is worth pointing out that both times, the same song was playing on the radio in my car. I don't know the name of it.
Oh yes. Things have gotten just about that exciting.
Actually, let's talk a little bit about music and the amazing thing that happened to me today.
As you all know, my computer died a couple of weeks ago, taking all my uploaded music with it, well over a thousand songs. Obviously, I have CDs for some of it, but not all of it, and the idea of reloading everything just made me tired.
But today, when I got back from Trip to 7-11 #1, I found an envelope inside my screen door, too big to fit in the mail slot.
It was from Corina. I wasn't expecting anything from her, so I was puzzled, but excited, as packages from Corina in the mail usually mean good things.
I was not wrong. Inside were four carefully bubble-wrapped CDs and a note explaining that she wished she could wave a magic wand and return all my files to me, but since she couldn't, she was sending me 577 songs from her own collection.
FIVE HUNDRED AND SEVENTY-SEVEN SONGS.
And it wasn't like she just gave me all the mp3s she had in the world, oh no. She sat down and went through her collection and picked things she thought I would like.
I absolutely wept with the thoughtfulness of this. And now I'm going crazy, because I want to listen to all of them immediately. It's sort of weird how many songs on there are ones I had had before, random ones I had downloaded and thought I was the only one who liked them, "Let My Love Open the Door" by Pete Townsend and "Beautiful Stranger" by Madonna and "Sick of Myself" by Matthew Sweet, totally random songs that I love. "The Devil Went Down to Georgia," people.
And there are many songs on there by artists I've never heard of or don't usually listen to, but I will now, because Corina has an uncanny knack for recommending music, having turned me on to Carbon Leaf, a little band out of Richmond that I absolutely adore, so if she tells me I should like something, then I'm sure I will.
Thank you so much, my sister. If I could send you Five Guys in the mail, I would.
I got some spam yesterday. I have a bulk mail folder, like I assume everyone does, and usually I just scan it for real mail before I empty it, and I don't pay much attention to the subject lines as I have no interest in mortgages, toner, diet pills, or increasing the size of either my breasts or my manhood. But for whatever reason, this one caught my eye:
"Sitting at home bored ,. Find a date for tonight right here . cancer shameface."
What the hell is that?
I went to a party on Saturday night with the Hound cast and crew. Our delightful Sherlock, who is perhaps the nicest and funniest guy ever, is getting ready to travel around the country for four months with his brand-new bride before moving to England (where he is from) for at least the next two years.
So, we threw him a going-away party. We were supposed to bring something native to where we're from, so I made Beer BBQ Meatballs, because nothing really screams "Kansas" more than beer, barbecue, and beef. (Fortunately, there were some left over, so I've been rationing them in the way you do when you're not getting a paycheck.)
It was a lovely party, and it was fun to see everyone again. Our stage manager is doing "Forum" next and told me I should come and audition, which I am going to do tomorrow night, even though I don't really sing (you're supposed to sing something from a musical, but if you don't really know anything in your range that isn't from the soundtrack of the musical episode of "Buffy," they let you sing "Happy Birthday") and there aren't really any women roles except for courtesans, but whatever, audition experience is good, and who says I wouldn't make a good courtesan, anyway?
Speaking of which, when Sherlock was getting ready to leave, he went around hugging all the girls and giving us kisses square on the mouth, at which point I decided that I needed to be friends with more men who kiss me goodbye.
So yeah, I've been looking for work, but that's a little frustrating, so I don't really want to talk about it.
When I'm not reading listings of jobs I have no chance of getting, I have been keeping busy with the box set of Firefly, which I borrowed from Melissa and which proves that either television viewers or network suits or both are ridiculously stupid for giving life to unconscionable crap like "The Swan" instead of nurturing breathtaking dramatic television. And I have been revisiting my novel, which, in a stroke of brilliance, I uploaded to my website like a year ago, so it was not a casualty of the hard drive disaster. It's just a text file, no paragraph breaks or anything, but who cares, I didn't lose it.
And that is about it. As long as they don't shut off my electricity or cable or both, I'll see you in Week Four.